I should be studying for a math test right now. Am I studying for a math test? No. I'm writing Hobbit fic.
I very seldom post my writing online, but here we are. This is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own. I own nothing but my OC, etc, etc.
If she shrugged her left shoulder up and down, she could hear the ominous sound of bone grinding unpleasantly against something.
It wasn't an auspicious end to her day.
But it didn't actually hurt beyond a faint twinge every other shrug, so Kaja just massaged it absently as she walked, head ducked against the biting cold and incessant rain. Probably she just hadn't set it right when it had dislocated after her fall off that roof the other day. Frankly, it was a wonder she still had all her limbs attached and in working order. Sometimes she felt remarkably spry, other times she woke up with the joints of a hundred year old woman.
Perks of the job, she thought, and snorted audibly enough to startle a drunkard on the side of the road out of his stupor. Kaja ignored his indignant glare as she marched past, her attention on the wooden sign that had finally swam into focus ahead through the darkness.
The chipped, painted words were in some dialect of Sindarin that made little sense to Kaja. Her standard Sindarin was barely up scratch, much less some obscure offshoot that had taken root out in the middle of Drúwaith Iaur. Something about a...hornet? That meant either 'superb' or 'dusty'. Kaja hadn't the foggiest idea why any of those words would come to mind when naming your inn, but maybe that was why she had never found success in the inn owning business.
Regardless, she shouldered open the door and ducked out of the rain, stomping mud off her boots and shaking out the hood of her cloak. There were two fireplaces on either end of the main room, and they did a wonderful job of making the inn almost uncomfortably warm in contrast to the outside air. Kaja crossed the crowded space, savoring the heat and willing it to sink through her soaked skin and ease her cramped muscles. She flagged down the barmaid and ordered a plate of food and whatever was on tap, settling herself on a stool at the far end of the bar.
The inn was surprisingly crowded for being in a tiny hole in the wall town. It looked like half the town's occupants were stuffed inside the place, all laughing and talking and shouting to be heard over one another. It would have been obnoxious, if Kaja hadn't spent the past two weeks alone, hunched out in the cold watching the changing of guards at a manor almost two days walk from here. The company was appreciated, if rowdy and separate from her.
"Will ye be wanting a room?" The barmaid asked, appearing at her elbow and sliding a mug of frothy drink and a plate of food in front of Kaja. "We've got one spare left, if ye'll be needing it?"
The speech, at least, was just heavily accented Westron. Kaja could understand that much, and she put on a bright smile for the woman. "Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."
The woman curtsied briefly before scampering off into the crowd while Kaja turned to dig into the plate of boiled potatoes and chicken. The ale was a bit watery, and the meat slightly overcooked, but it was warm and hearty, and the first real meal Kaja had had for a long time. She scarfed it down in record time, sipping at her drink and savoring the piece of bread at a more sedate pace.
Perhaps she would ask around, see if there was anyone in town with medical knowledge who might be able to reset her shoulder properly. It wasn't bothering her so much right now, but if left untended for too long it could cause problems she didn't even notice until it was too late. The last thing she needed was for her arm to suddenly stop working in the middle of scaling a wall. Again.
Besides, she could do with a new cloak, as well. This one had served her well these past three winters, but it was fraying at the hem, and she had already patched several rips and holes. The fur lining wasn't as warm as it used to be. Winter would be drawing to a close soon anyway, perhaps she would look into a more versatile cloak.
And she could go east this time. Somewhere warmer. Just for a bit of a break from this damned cold. Kaja had a fondness for the winter, but it didn't mean she enjoyed tramping through a foot of snow everywhere she went. Have you ever tried to avoid a hunting party of armed guards in the snow while leaving no tracks? It wasn't easy.
So. East, then.
It was as good a lead as any. Kaja didn't have any other jobs lined up right now, and it might do her good to take a break, rest her injuries and recuperate some. Eat real food, get a few real nights rest.
The more she thought on it, the more pleasing the idea seemed, and by the time she stuffed the last bite of bread into her mouth and chased it with a swig of ale, Kaja's mind was made up. It would do her good to take some time off, see some sights, let the heat on her back die down a little.
Deep in thought as she was, Kaja almost didn't notice the barmaid's reappearance at her side. Kaja plastered on a charming smile once more, but it faltered in the face of the obvious fear on the dark-haired woman's expression.
Her hands were restlessly twisting her apron, and her pretty face was screwed up with apprehension. Even her dark, curly hair seemed somehow frizzy with nerves.
"Yes?" Kaja prompted when the woman just made an indistinct sort of squeaking sound.
The barmaid cleared her throat and said uncomfortably, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the surrounding room, "There's a...there's an orc outside. Looking for you."
Kaja felt her own face screw up in confusion. Orcs had no business with her, and she certainly had no business with them. The men after her had most certainly given up the search after darkness had fallen over the forest she had escaped into, and the falling snow would've covered whatever tracks she left. The painting she had stolen from the manor had been expensive, to be sure, but not the kind of thing you hired orcs to reclaim. Not to mention the fact that no orc would politely ask for you to meet them out in an alley before chopping your head off your neck. They'd just do it when you weren't looking.
"Mister Maggins don't allow any of those folk in the inn," the barmaid hastened to explain when Kaja held her silence. "I...I don't mean any trouble for ye, I can t-tell them to go away..."
Kaja slid off her stool, smiling and patting the woman gently on the elbow. "Not to worry, my good lady. Thank you for the food, it was very good. And if you would put aside a room for me tonight?"
"Y-yes, a' course," Kaja heard the barmaid stutter as she turned and moved purposefully through the throngs of bodies.
One blessing, the rain had stopped. Now she had only to contend with the cold, the mud, and the two orcs currently standing in the middle of the road, ugly faces turned up to her with matching scowls. Or perhaps those were just their faces. Ugly, twisted things with grayish skin and beady white eyes. Kaja could honestly say she had had little dealings with orcs in her time, not nearly enough to judge the appearance of these two pearls.
"Evening, gentlemen," she said, stopping with more than a polite distance between them, hands braced on her hips, eyebrow raised imperiously. "What in Arda's name do you want, and how did you know I was here?"
"Followed ye here," the one on the left grunted, ignoring the unpleasant look shot to him by his companion. "Sniffed ye out t' here."
"Lovely," Kaja said flatly. "Mighty fine...sniffing. And what is it you want of me?"
It would be nothing good. Nothing good ever came from orcs, or their ilk.
Sure enough, it was the one on the right that answered this time. "A job, for the ungol tvkar."
The black speech rattled all the teeth in Kaja's mouth, though she didn't outwardly wince or show the disgust she felt. She didn't know what it meant, but she could guess any nickname of hers that had reached the ears of orcs and their kind would not be complimentary.
"I'm not looking for work," she said shortly.
"You will, if we give the right incentive," the orc on the right sneered. He produced a roll of parchment from somewhere on his person, tossing it across the street to Kaja.
She caught it, frowning deeply, but not yet opening it. These things tended to be slippery slopes, and it felt very much like she was perched on the edge of a sheet of ice that went directly downwards. Slowly, she unrolled the parchment, and scanned the words written in a sharp hand.
Disgust curled like a snake in Kaja's stomach as she read. She calmly re-rolled the parchment and tossed it back to the orc, who caught it without a glance.
"I don't cut off heads for money anymore," she said. "I've turned over a new leaf."
Left Orc laughed - or at least, he made a rasping noise that might've been a parody of a laugh - and hissed, "But a mighty fine bounty on the head."
Not bothering to stop her lip from curling into a sneer, Kaja asked, "And what need have you of giving me this job? Two fine orcs like yourselves can't track down a single dwarf?"
Left Orc snarled at her, but Right Orc raised a hand to ward off his friend, and turned those beady white eyes onto her.
"Dwarves are slippery vermin. Best to 'ave all kinds of eyes an' ears on 'im. And our master can reward you in ways even you can't imagine, ungol tvkar."
Kaja really wished he would stop calling her that. She could've gone the rest of her life without knowing that orcs knew who she was - or, apparently, what she smelled like.
"A generous offer," she deadpanned, "but I will have to refuse."
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when an arm of iron muscle wrapped like a vice around her neck. Kaja reared automatically, choking, kicking her legs to try and offset their balance, but she might as well have been a squirrel trying to knock down an oak tree. The orc didn't even shift its weight as she flailed, trying to dislodge or at least ease it's grip on her windpipe.
"We were not giving you the opportunity to refuse," snickered Left Orc.
"We don't need her dead," Right Orc barked when Kaja wheezed and choked out a cough.
The arm around her neck slackened marginally, and she forced herself to take slow, steady gulps of air.
"This is hardly becoming of you, gentlemen," she rasped. "Accosting a lady thusly."
"Lady," snickered Left Orc. Kaja's eyes narrowed. She would kill him first.
"Our master will reward your cooperation handsomely," Right Orc said, taking several long steps forward until he was uncomfortably far into Kaja's personal space. She could smell his fetid breath on her face. "And you will cooperate, tvkar."
Kaja bit her tongue, and glared.
Right Orc took her silence as assent, and a twisted smile stretched his ugly face. "And seeing as you have spider fingers, thief, after you've collected the dwarf head, search him for a map. Our master has an interest in it."
The arm around her neck had slackened a little further when she had gone quiet and compliant. Never give an inch, if you aren't willing to be dragged a mile, as Kaja's mother used to say. She would have to teach them that the hard way.
The heel of her boot caught the underside of Right Orc's jaw, snapping his head back with enough force that something audibly snapped. Using the momentum of the kick, she twisted forcefully and dropped out of the hold of the orc behind her. The hidden blade up her sleeve sprung out with a soft schik of metal, and she had it buried hilt-deep in the orc's throat a heartbeat later.
Spinning, she lashed out with the knife at Left Orc, who had charged her with a roar, and slashed across his eyes. He howled, reeling and clutching at his bloody face, missing the foot that Kaja planted firmly into his chest, sending him crashing back into a puddle.
Kaja turned slowly to face Right Orc, who was snarling. By the awkward way his mouth was hanging open, she assumed his jaw was broken.
She smiled sweetly. "That looks like it hurts. You don't happen to know how to reset a dislocated shoulder, do you?"
Right Orc roared, charging with blind rage, which Kaja sidestepped easily. She kicked out his knee, grabbed him by the back of his filthy tunic, and slit open his throat in one smooth move.
Kaja let the orc's body drop to the mud, sneering distastefully at the black blood coating her knife and arm.
"How unpleasant," she muttered, and turned her attention to the last orc, currently attempting to drag it's way into an alley, whimpering low in it's throat.
Kaja stepped over Right Orc, moving calmly over to Left Orc and planted a boot on the back of it's head, pressing down hard enough to force it's face into the muddy water. It flailed ineffectually, and Kaja spitefully held it there a moment longer before lifting her foot and rolling the orc forcefully onto it's back.
"Who is your master?" She asked.
It's eyes were like two sliced open grapes in the middle of it's face. Blood was still flowing, and it whined pathetically. Kaja planted her boot on it's throat, and began pressing.
"A-Azog," it gritted out, snarling and baring teeth.
The name meant little to Kaja, so she pressed further. "Why did he want me for the job?"
She could feel it struggling to swallow under the sole of her boot. She did not ease up.
"H...he wants everyone on it."
Kaja nearly scoffed. Some master orc wanted 'everyone' to track down and kill one damn dwarf? Clearly the dwarf knew how to piss off the right people. Or the wrong ones, really.
"What was that about a map? What use do orcs have with dwarvish maps?"
Left Orc remained stubbornly silent until Kaja, tired and in pain herself, momentarily lost her temper and stomped hard down on it's nose.
"Do not know!" The orc wailed, flailing when she planted her other boot on it's chest until she was literally standing with her whole weight on him. "He did not say!"
"That's very unfortunate," Kaja sighed. "I'll have to dig a hole for three useless corpses, then."
One swift downward stab, and the orc was dead before it could whine any further.
Kaja stood, stepping off the orc, cleaning her blade absently on the edge of her cloak. She glanced around the empty street, scowling. No one had come running at the sound of the scuffle. The drunk that had been snoring on the street corner when Kaja had come through town was now nowhere to be found. Typical.
She crossed to where Right Orc was lying in a puddle of it's own blood, and, nose wrinkled, she pawed cautiously through the small satchel tied around it's waist. She plucked out the roll of parchment, shaking it off as if to dispatch a nest of insects, and unwound it, scanning the words once more.
Everyone in this town was clearly useless, or cowards, or deaf. She would have to dispose of the bodies, but everything was too wet to just pile them up and burn them. It seemed rude to the citizens to just leave a couple of dead orcs lying around, and it would be stupid for her to leave evidence so out in the open besides. She was tired, but she would have to deal with them.
Kaja's eyes narrowed down at the paper in her blood-streaked hand. She would deal with the corpses, then she would rest. At first light she would set off, but not East as she had been planning. No. She would go North.
She would have to see what trouble one Thorin Oakenshield had gotten her into.